


Blood and Petals

by Starofwinter



Category: Star Wars Legends: Republic Commando Series - Karen Traviss, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hanahaki Disease, Other, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 16:58:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14217633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofwinter/pseuds/Starofwinter
Summary: Sparrow knows what it means when they start coughing up flowers.





	Blood and Petals

**Author's Note:**

> Vaar'kote is technically "early glory" instead of "morning glory" but I liked it better.

Sparrow knows what it means when they start coughing up flowers - soft, deep purple petals spilling from their lips.  They know the flower almost without looking, and they know what it symbolizes.  _ Vaar’kote _ , native to Mandalore, and the symbol for love in vain.  

In a way, they’d known this was coming.  It hurts, knowing that Nibral doesn’t love them and never will, but they expected this.  Nibral was never going to love them; how could he? He wouldn’t settle for someone like them.

Sparrow hides it, excuses it all as just a cough, though they know Nibral doesn’t really believe them.  Depending on how much they’ve annoyed him, he either holds them and lets them curl up against his chest when they can’t catch their breath, or he snaps at them to see a medic and stop making so much noise.  He never even tries to say he loves them. 

It gets worse, slowly, and they have to stay behind when everyone else is away on missions.  They curl up on Nibral’s bunk, careful as always to keep blood from staining his sheets. It hurts a little less then, even though their breathing gets ragged and their chest strains against the flowers blooming there to draw enough oxygen to keep the darkness from coloring the edges of their vision.

When they start coughing up whole flowers, they put the least-bloody ones in a cup of water and leave it next to their bunk.  It’s a little spot of beauty in the stark duracrete and metal surroundings, at least. 

Eventually, just the effort of getting out of bed is more effort than they can usually manage for anything but the necessities.  They’re too tired to eat, and everything tastes like blood or flowers now anyway. They’re wasting away, and they know that might kill them even before the disease choking them does.

For some reason, Nibral stays with them to the end.  Sparrow doesn’t know why, but he comes back from a mission and makes excuses to their officers to ensure he can stay with them, sitting on their bunk with them in his lap while they slowly get weaker and weaker.  It’s harder to breathe, but his hand rubbing circles on their back helps ease a little of the pain.

“You know,” he says, at the very end, when just opening their eyes takes energy they don’t have, “If I ever loved anyone, Spar’ika, I would love you.”

They nod, tucking their head under his chin, their hand wrapped weakly around his wrist as they smile, with blood and dark purple petals on their lips.  “I know,” they whisper, “I love you anyway.” Darkness claims them, and they let it pull them under.


End file.
